Hospitalized
by Static Prose
Summary: Chapters 3 and 4. I wonder if anyone is even interested in this neglected story anymore. o_o Duo does some origami and gets his cast off, then pays the unconscious Heero a visit.
1. Default Chapter Title

Moshi moshi minna-san! Marin here. If you've read my story, Institutionalized, you may be wondering how a sequel is possible. You may even be reluctant to read this sequel, seeing as how it seems so unlikely. But, hey, don't knock it till you try it, k? I promise it's not going to be some far-out, weirdo, freak of nature idea. It'll be cool. Promise. At least, I hope I promise. ^^;;; I'm not really all that sure if it can be adequate, ¬_¬ but I'll try my best, as always. Ja ne!  
  
Savor the Flavor  
~Marin2x1  
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Disclaimers: I OWN NOTHING!! ^^;; Except maybe some Gundam W merchandise. But I don't own Gundam W.  
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Warning: This fic will contain a lemon scene. If you're not into Duo and Heero lemons, don't even get started with this sequel. You'll be grossed out. This chapter itself doesn't contain anything fruity, but later chapters will, so be on your guard. Ja...  
  
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Chapter One: The familiar sunset  
  
What was a dream, and what was real? That's the question I'm now asking myself. I can remember the car drive, and the crash, for that matter, but things afterward are hazy. Did I die? Am I in heaven? Heaven... that's where I am, right? No, it's changed. It's an unfamiliar ceiling above me. I think it's a ceiling. It's got a blinding light shining down in my eyes. Wasn't I with Heero? Weren't we together? We were on an island, watching a sunset that seemed to never fade, no matter how late into the night we watched. What the hell is going on!?  
  
Everything is fuzzy and blurry and I think I may be crying. I hear something. Some noise is resounding from outside my reach. I can't move my head to look for the source, but a light begins to break over my body. What I can see of it, that is. I hear a voice talking sweetly to me, but it's as if the language is something I don't understand. Like I'm in a foreign country. Nothing seems to connect to my brain right now. I have no control of my body and nothing makes any sense. I can't remember what my name is. I don't know where I am. I'm very confused.  
  
Some woman with red hair is hovering over me and smiling. There she goes with that funny language again. I try to speak, but I realize there's something shoved down my throat. I've got some tube in my lungs! I try to reach for it, but my arm is stuck. When I pull up, there's a clanking of metal to metal. I don't bother to try and move the other one. I can feel pain coming from it and I don't want it to get worse. I think I'm regaining control of my body and I blink my eyes at the woman. Red curly hair. She smells like baby powder and antiseptic. Odd combination. She seems worried that I haven't responded in some way and starts talking to me again. I think I can make sense of it now.  
  
"Do you know who you are? Do you know where you are?" she's asking me. I shake my head no. I don't remember anything. It's like my entire brain has been erased. Didn't I remember something earlier? Wasn't I somewhere? With someone? If I had remembered something, it's gone now. Everything is empty. My head and my heart. They're both empty. I don't know myself and I don't know anyone else. I have a vague recollection of someone... a pair of cobalt blue eyes. I can see them now. Who is that?  
  
"Your name is Duo Maxwell. Do you remember now?" I shake my head no again. It sounds familiar, but it doesn't sound like me. That's not the name I would give myself now. I was thinking that I felt more like a Heero, or a Quatre. Those names are nice. Where did I come up with those names, anyway? I'm getting tired all of a sudden. My eyes slowly close down, though I try to keep them open. I don't want to have to wake up and try to remember again everything I've just thought. There's no use. My eyes are closed and I'm asleep.  
  
There's that sunset again. It seems so familiar. I'm on a beach and I can feel the grainy wet sand squeeze in between my toes. There are two chairs set up in the surf that rises to the land. The water barely touches the metal legs of them as it washes towards me. There's someone in the chair. It's Heero. I remember him. I remember everything now. I am dead. I'm in some type of heaven with Heero. In my hand is my marguirita. My familiar marguirita. I sit down next to him and smile. Still the same watercolor sunset as always; so familiar. Everything is so familiar here. I don't want to go back. "Heero, do you remember what happened to us?"  
  
Heero looks at me for a moment as if I've lost my mind. I think I have. "We died, didn't we?"  
  
I don't know what to say. I can't be dead. I was just awake a moment ago, wasn't I? Maybe it was a dream. But, how can dead people dream? I mean, they're dead! This is starting to worry me, and I'm getting a little scared, and very confused. I'm so confused. "Did we? I thought I was still alive. I just woke up a minute ago..."  
  
"Duo, what are you talking about?" he asks me before sipping his own drink through the tiny straw. He tosses the exotic little umbrella onto the sands and the water carries it away with it's flow. I watch as it travels out a bit, saturates with water, tears apart, and floats away from itself. Poor little umbrella. I look directly into the sun for a moment. It doesn't hurt my eyes. It's red and orange and purple all in one color. Very pretty.  
  
But now, in the center, there's a light. Not like the others. It's different. It's white and it's penetrating the sun's fading brightness. This light hurts my eyes and I try to blink against it, but it doesn't work. It's as if the light is going straight through my eyelids and into my brain. I stop trying to hide from it and open my eyes fully. Everything is gone now. There is no sunset. No watercolor sand. No water. It's an unfamiliar ceiling again.  
  
Everything is nothing to me. I don't know, I don't remember, I don't even exist. I'm a fly on the wall. No one will notice me now. I'm a ghost. I'm not real. This world isn't real. Where the hell am I and how did I get here!?  
  
It's dark now. There is no blinding light like before. I can hear rain pattering against the window pane on the far wall. It's very relaxing, but eerie at the same time. I'm lonely and afraid. I don't know where I am. I try to move somewhere, but then I remember, my arm is attached to the bed. Actually, it's attached to the rail of the bed. There's a tube in my throat. There's a line coming from one of my arms. My other arms has bandages wrapped all around it. The bandages are soaked in something red and gooey. My arm itches. My stomach hurts. My left leg feels as if it's not there, though I can see it under the sheet. My head. I haven't bothered to notice my head. I lift the bandaged arm up to my skull. Wasn't my skull crushed in the accident? I do remember the accident. I remember feeling my brain squish inbetween my fingers before I died. But I'm not dead. My entire head is wrapped in thick, heavy bandages. It doesn't feel pliable, which means maybe I didn't crush my skull. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe I've been in this hospital forever and my whole life has been a dream. That's why I can't remember anything. Well, at least I've figured out I'm in a hospital. I want to move. I want to walk somewhere. My arm is attached to the bed, though. I inspect the restraint. Nothing but an ordinary pair of handcuffs. Easy to get out of. Considering that my entire head is wrapped up, I doubt I could find a pin of some sort conveniently placed in my long hair. I'll just have to improvise. This IV needle should work fine. I use my bandaged arm to yank out the needle and blood squirts from my vein for a moment. Just a trickle, now. I'll be fine. I take a look at the needle, but it's not a needle. It's a tube. They had a tiny little tube of a needle in my arm! Maybe they don't use needles anymore.[1] I've never had an IV.  
  
There must be something else around here for me to use... I try to scan my bed, but I can't sit up. There's still a tube in my throat. I take the tape off around it and start to pull it out. It feels like I'm pulling out my own throat. It scratches all the way up and makes me gag to the point that I throw up some vile tasting liquid. Most of it spills onto the bedspread or into the tube, but some trickles down my chin onto my shirt front. The tube is finally out and I gasp for air. It hurts badly for me to breath. Very badly. Maybe I should have left that thing in. I ingore the pain and sit up. There's a table next to my bed. It's got some food on it. How did they expect me to eat that with a tube stuck in my mouth? What a bunch of idiots.  
  
Now, what is there for me to use to get out of these damned handcuffs? There must be something. Something small and bendable. I can't find a thing. All of this stupid equipment, all these machines, and not a damn thing to pick a tiny lock with. My door opens and someone steps in. I can't see who they are. The light from outside makes them a complete shadow to me.  
  
"You're awake again, I see?" It's a woman. I can tell that by the voice. It sounds vaguely familiar. Have I spoken to her before? She opens the door all the way and flips on a small light in the corner. She gives me a weird look. "You shouldn't be sitting up in bed like that," she says as she walks over to me and pushes me slowly back down in the bed. She goes to the foot of the bed and grabs a metal clipboard, scanning it for a moment.  
  
I look at my bandaged arm. It looks awful. All bloody and icky and God does it itch! I wish I could scratch it. It would probably hurt. "You took your tube out, I see. And your IV... We're just going to have to put them back in again, you know." I glare at her.  
  
"I don't need a tube in my throat." That's the first thing I've said. It hurts to talk. My entire throat is dry and scratchy. My voice is hoarse. It sounds more like wood being sawed in half than a voice. I doubt she understood what I said. She looks confused, but she hands me a glass of water from the counter to my left. I drink it gratefully. It feels so cold and wonderful.  
  
"Now, what was that you were saying, Mr. Maxwell?"  
  
"I said I don't need a tube in my throat." She looks at me for a moment, then checks the chart.  
  
"That tube is to help you breath correctly," she says as she continues to read my chart. "Your left lung was punctured. Without that tube..."  
  
"I don't need it! I can breath fine." I'm lying. I know I'm lying. It hurts like hell without that tube. But it annoys me when it's inside me. I don't like it.  
  
She closes my chart and puts it back in its place at the foot of the bed. She walks around to my bedside and places a hand on my forehead. Actually, her hand is on the bandages on my forehead. "It's for your own good," she whispers down to me. Red hair. Baby powder and anitseptic. I remember her. "You can't argue with us about it."  
  
I look away for a moment, then something occurs to me. My memory is coming back. "Can I ask you some questions?"  
  
"Sure," she says, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at me lovingly.  
  
"Can you tell me how I got here? Who did I come in here with? I can't really remember anything clearly. Do I have brain damage, or something?"  
  
She laughs softly a moment and shakes her head. "Well, first of all, you don't have brain damage. Your memory is gone because you've been through such a tragic event. Also, your cranium and your brain got crushed in the accident. There's no permanent damage, but we had to put a plait in the front of your head. Right here," she says, putting her hand on her own forehead. I cringe. I've got a plait in my head? Eww... "Your left arm got cut very badly. We had to put 138 stiches in it. Your artery was severed. Your left leg got pretty much the same treatment. It was twisted to the point we thought it was broken, but nothing too serious. Just a hairline fracture along the ankle. Your right side seems to be alright, though, unless we missed something," she says smiling down at me warmly. She's nice. I like her. So friendly and cheery.  
  
"Was anyone else injured?" I ask, not knowing if I truly want to hear the answer.  
  
She rubs the bridge of her nose with two fingers and closes her eyes. "You came in with four others. Three of them have been released from here. Minor injuries. The other one was badly hurt. He was shot before the car accident even took place. He's still in a coma."  
  
I can feel my heart stop beating as she recites the statistics to me. It just stops. My entire body goes numb and I feel light headed. Heero. I remember Heero clearly now. Those eyes. At least he's alive. He's not dead, like I'd thought. "Is Heero going to live?"  
  
She sighs deeply at the question. I already know her answer. "It's not very likely, Duo." I can't take it anymore. I start to cry. Boys don't cry, but I don't care about that right now. I'm handcuffed to a damn bed, the person I love is probably going to die, my chest hurts, my entire body aches, I'm tired and I feel nausious. How much worse can it get for someone? What's the point of trying to be tough and not cry? Life sucks. Screw it all to Hell and back. Screw everyone.  
  
The doctor offers me a tissue, but I refuse. I wipe my eyes with the bandages on my arm and ignore the pain. "Heero must be a good friend," she says as she leans against my bed. "By the way, I'm Doctor Usatashi." I nod my head to her in acknowledgement. She already knows my name. "This is Tokyo General Hospital. You've been here for..." she thinks a moment, looking at the ceiling. "six weeks."  
  
"Six weeks!?" I squeak out. How could I have been here for six weeks? It seems like I've been here for only a few hours, at most. Six weeks is like forever.  
  
She shakes her head at me and smiles again. "You're going to be here for quite a long time. It's going to be a long recovery period. You may need some physical therapy, too."  
  
I lay my head back on the pillow with a sigh. The pillow is small and hard. Like the bed. It's a lot like the beds in the mental hospital. The mental hospital. Oh, God! Are they going to send me back there? I refuse to go back. I'd rather die than go back there. "What's going to happen after I get out?" I ask, trying to remain calm.  
  
She looks down at the floor. I wonder what she finds so fascinating down there. Maybe the dust bunnies hopping around. "Well, considering that you're being charged by the police..."  
  
"What?! For what!?"  
  
She looks back at me sadly. "You were there, Duo. You know what you did."  
  
"I don't remember," I lie.  
  
She sighs at me. "They're charging you for grand theft auto, attempted murder, and assault, for starters." I can't think anymore. My entire life is gone now. I have no chance of a future anymore. Not with all these shitty things that have happened to me. No chance.  
  
"What about Heero?"  
  
"He's being charged with manslaughter. If he survives, he'll be incarcerated." Now I truly can't think. My brain has turned to cream of wheat. The thin and runny kind that wasn't cooked right. That's my brain right now. I turn my head away from her and close my eyes as the tears begin to well up again. I want to go to sleep and forget everything. I want to sleep forever. I want to run away from everything and never come back. Just run and never stop until the day I die.  
  
Doctor Usatashi pushes herself off of my bed with her hip and hovers over me for a moment. I can feel her eyes on me. They're so kind and full of worry. I can't see her, but I feel what she's feeling. She's concerned about me. She walks around my bed and out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving me in complete darkness. Rain is the only sound to keep me company as it patters and splashes against the window. A flash of lightning brightens my room for a split second and I sigh loudly into the rolling thunder that follows close behind.  
  
"Jesus..."  
  
I go to sleep.  
  
  
  
  
[1] Actually, they usually don't use needles anymore. So, let's just assume that Duo was unlucky enough to get a plastic tubey needle instead of a real needle. Poor Duo... 


	2. Default Chapter Title

Moshi moshi. Chapter two here for you to enjoy. Good luck on it, Marin; you'll need it. And good luck on all upcoming chapters, too. Keep writing! Don't give up! ¬.¬ Just a little bit 'o enthusiasm and encouragement from myself. I'm like Washu. I have two little chibi, doll-like cheerleaders with my likeness sitting atop my shoulders everytime I need encouragement. They said hi to everyone. I expect you to greet them back! _ Greet them back!!! Arigato... Well, enjoy chapter two.  
  
Savor the Flavor!  
~Marin2x1  
  
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Disclaimers: Nothing belongs to me, except for this pack of cigarettes and my lighter. Although, I stole the ashtray from my mother last time I was at her house... *shrug*  
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Caution: Some hints of shounen ai, as was before. Nothing too juicy as of yet. But, BEWARE! and be afraid! For Marin, the lemon eater is here to please fruity fans! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!! *cough, sputter, spit, gag* MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!! *cough*  
  
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Chapter Two:  
  
Wasn't I asleep? It seems like I was. But now I'm awake and there's another doctor in my room. I don't know him. He's tall and skinny and I don't like him one bit. He's clearing his throat and checking my charts. I don't like the way he grunts when he clears his throat. He sounds like he's sick, or something. Gross. "Who're you?" I think to ask him, but I can't. I'm intubated again and I can't talk. I can barely move, and my IV's back in my arm, I see. Damn doctors and their stupid know-it-all attitudes. Screw them all.  
  
He must've heard me shifting around in my bed, because now he's glancing up from my chart and giving me a smile. Bastard. Oh, yeah, just walk over here smiling like that, you jerk. You wouldn't be smiling if you were handcuffed to a bed rail and your ass was hanging out the back of your dress. Not to mention that damned bedpan I have to use. You jerk. "Hello, I'm Doctor Yatsuragi. And how is our little patient today?" Little patient, my ass. You stupid shit. Screw you! I flick him off and he smiles at me as if it was a sign of affection. Moron.  
  
He's laughing now. Jerk. If I weren't handcuffed to this rail, I'd be slapping his face right now. If I wan't handcuffed to this rail, I wouldn't even be here to see his laughing at me and smiling as if I'm something funny. "I know you're probably upset about everything that's happened to you, but that's no reason to be rude to me," he says as he leans against my bed. He shook my bed and now my ankle hurts. Asshole. That reminds me... I kick the blanket off with my good leg and take a look. My left leg is wrapped in some odd sort of cast from the knee to the end of my toes. I can't move my toes. When I try, it hurts. The Doctor smirks at me and throws the blanket back over my body. I glare at him.  
  
It's morning now, it seems. There's light from the window shining in my eyes. It feels nice to see morning again. I'm still confused, though. I wonder about Heero. When will I get to see him? I'm stuck to this bed right now, and he's in a coma. Even if I did see him, I wouldn't get to speak to him, would I? If I did, he wouldn't talk back. I miss him and I hope more than anything that he'll be alright. Then I start thinking. If he is alright, he'll go to jail for killing that Doctor in the mental hospital. That was the wrong thing to do, sure, but can you blame the guy? I mean, he was under a lot of pressure. We all were. I don't blame him. I couldn't blame him.  
  
The Doctor takes another look at my chart, checks a few of the machines, and scampers out of the room. I'm feeling kinda hungry. My stomach doesn't exactly feel empty, but I haven't chewed and swallowed anything in six weeks. I miss the taste of food. Any food. Even hospital food would be good right now. I have a tube in my throat, though. It will be a while before I'm allowed to eat. God, I'm bored. I wish that girl doctor would come back in here. She was nice. Maybe she could bring me a magazine or a book to read. The only thing I can do right now is to twiddle my thumbs or fall asleep. I'll opt for the latter.  
  
I must have been asleep for a few hours. When I wake up, my room is empty still and the light shining through the window is no longer the dull gray of early morning. It's bright and blazing.and comforting. I wish I was closer to the window so that I could look out and feel the sun on my body. I used to hate the sun, always so bright and blinding. Now, though, I crave it. I crave its warmth. I feel so cold and alone and scared. Yep, I'm scared. I'm scared about what's going to happen to me, what's going to happen to Heero, will he live or die, what about the other guys in the car? Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei. How are they doing? They were released from the hospital, but where are they now? Are they back in the mental institute, or were they sent home? All this worrying and thinking is making me restless. I want to walk around! I don't care if my ankle is broken.  
  
My door opens silently and I take a look at the intruder. It's the female Doctor from earlier and I sigh with relief. I missed her. She's so nice. "How are you doing, Mr. Maxwell?" she asks me with a small smile. I try to smile back, but my mouth won't move. It's taped up, so I nod and smile with my eyes. I wish I could talk to her, ask her for some sort of entertainment. I'm so bored. "Would you like to talk to me?" she asks. She must be reading my mind. I nod greatly. She hands me a clicky pen and a pad of paper. I immediately scribble down that I'm VERY bored. She reads my message and smiles as she takes out a deck of cards. She holds them up to me with a questioning look. I nod again and scribble down the question, "what game?" She suggests go fish, and I agree. So, here I am, playing go fish with one free hand that has bandages wrapped all over it. I feel like a lepre. She wins the game and asks me how I'm feeling. I scribble down on the notepad that I'm feeling okay, but I'm in a little bit of pain. "We'll get you some more medicine for the pain," she says sweetly. How nice. She gets up to check my charts and the machines. My blood pressure and my heartrate are recorded on those little things. There's a something clippy on the tip of the finger on my arm that's handcuffed to the bed. It must keep track of my blood pressure. My heart rate is taken by these tiny little white things stuck to my chest and rib cage. I'm guessing that's what they're for. I can't be sure. I'm not a doctor. I wouldn't want to be. Too much school. I hate school.  
  
I write a message on the notepad, "When can I see Heero?" and hand it to her. She sighs a moment and looks at me, silent and sad. "I don't know, Duo," she says, still carrying the sigh in her voice. "Maybe when you can walk I'll take you down to see him. Maybe." I take the notepad back and scribble down, "Will you tell me if he wakes up and how he's doing?" she nods in response and smiles. "You really care about him a lot, don't you?" she asks, giving me a strage look. I don't answer. I just stare at her as if I don't know what she's talking about. I'm not sure if I do. Sure, I care about him a lot. It's like friendship, but more. He's something so much more to me. I doubt I could live without him. I don't know what I'd do if he died. It scares the hell out of me.  
  
"Well, how about I bring you up some magazines and crossword puzzles to keep you busy?" she asks. I draw a large smiling face on the notepad with the word, "YES," underneath it. She laughs and leaves my room. I'm left along again. It's so quiet in here. There's a tv in the corner, but there isn't a remote that I can see. Maybe it's one of those buttons on the little control attached to the bed. I pick up the box and push a button. The top half of my bed starts to move. That's obviously not the right one. I try another one, the bottom half inclines up. If I keep this up, I'll be folded in half soon. I try another button and it squeezes together even more than before. Yep, I'm folded in half now. Great. Just great. And of course, as was expected, I drop the control. It dangles by the wire over the rail of the bed just out of my reach. Damn it all to hell. I stretch for it with my handcuffed arm, but I only manage to graze it with my fingertips as it swings back and forth. Damn everything to hell. All this trouble, and there's still no television to keep me company as I lie squished into a tiny bed mattress that folds me up, and ache from head to toe. I think I broke my spine.  
  
"Duo, what on earth are you doing?" Thank my lucky stars. Only a few minutes having to lie squished. The doctor is back. I'm a little emberrassed, but I'd rather be emberrassed than crumpled forever. She's laughing softly at me and pushing the buttons to lower the bed. Maybe my spine isn't broken. It feels fine now that I'm horizontal and not folded in half. "What were you trying to do, anyway?" she asks me with a smile. I scribble down, "TV," on the notepad and hand it to her. She grabs a remote control off the counter to my left and puts it in my hand. I find the power button and click it on. The volume's way up there, and I'm immediately deafened by some blaring music video on the set. I can't find the damn volume control and the music is really loud. Where the hell is the button? I push various different buttons, changing the channel, bringing up the menu, raising the volume even more. I'm starting to get pissed. I groan into the tube in my throat exasperatedly. It feels weird to do that. Kinda tickly and thick. That's a good word to describe it; it's a thick feeling. Doctor Usatashi grabs her ears at the noise and grabs the remote from me. She turns down the volume and I would sigh with relief if I were able. I'm not. I just make a strange gurgle-choking sound that isn't very pleasant at all. I hate this tube in my mouth!  
  
She puts the magazines and crossword puzzle books the small table to my right and rolls it over to me. It sits right over my stomach. Perfect place. I grab for the controls to the bed again and try to find the one that will sit the top half of my bed up. I push the wrong one, of course, and the bottom half goes up. DAMN EVERYTHING! I hand the controls to Doctor Usatashi's outstretched hand and point to my pillow, signalling that I want it up. She nods, and up I go. How comfortable. The tube in my throat feels weird, like it's being pulled to the right. Not very comfortable... I'll get used to it, I'm sure. I grasp my clicky pen and open up the crossword puzzle book. I was expecting the Doctor to leave, but she doesn't. She sits herself down in an uncomfortable looking chair and watches me do my puzzles. What does she find so interesting about me? Why does she like me so much? She must have hundreds of patients, so what is she doing here with me? I think I'll ask her in Duo language. I scribble down, "Don't take this the wrong way, but why are you spending so much time with me? You have other patients, don't you?" and aim the notepad in her direction. She walks across the room, takes it from me and reads it with a smile. "Well, first of all," she says with a smile, "I'm spending so much time with you because I like you. And I do have other patients, but not now. I'm off work." I doubt I've ever known anyone as sweet as she is. Staying with me after work just because she likes me, huh? Well, that's nice. Really. I draw another big smiley face on the notepad with the word, "cool," underneath it. She smiles and leans over my puzzle book, asking if I need any help with an answer. I point to thirteen across, city of light. "Paris," she says instantly. She's good. I wonder if she's ever been there. Probably not.  
  
Maybe someday I'll go to Paris. I've always wanted to travel. No, I probably will never get the chance. She whisks me away from my daydream by pointing to sixteen across and saying, "fraudulent." I'm impressed.  
  
~~  
  
The rain is back today. I can hear it pattering with the sounds of my heartbeat. It's making a rhythm with my body and it's so serene. I like it. I like the rain. It seems to be drizzling often these days, but it's never really an all out pouring down. Today, though, it is, and I sigh as I watch it splatter and shatter against the glass so far away. I sigh to myself again and flip on the tv. I wish Doctor Usatashi would come back here today. Yesterday, we did crossword puzzles for what seemed like an eternity. She knew the answer to most of the questions. We only had to use a thesaurus once. Who would have guessed the answer was the word arid? I don't think I've ever even heard that word before. At least, it's never been used in common conversations I've had.  
  
There's a news report on tv. News is so depressing. Nothing but killers and stalkers and theives roaming the streets these days. What's the world coming to? I laugh at my own stupidity. I'm one of those theives out there. I may not be a stalker, or a direct killer, but I am a theif. I steal whatever I need, and I need alot.  
  
I flip through the channels quickly, not able to see what program is on each one, before turning it back off. So, maybe a magazine will keep me company for awhile. I pick one up. I've read it before, I've read all of them, in fact, but at least it's something. Flipping through the first few pages, I lose interest and toss it back on the table above my waist. There's that ceiling again. No matter how long I stare at it, it's still so unfamiliar to me. I like to play connect the dots with the little bubbles in it. Popcorn ceilings are the greatest. I find star constellations in the patterns, too. That's fun. I've found cassiopeia and orion, and even hydra. I like hydra. Just a long, thin line of stars. I miss the stars.  
  
I had a strange dream last night. I was lying on a blanket under the night sky. It was warm and humid outside and the air smelt like magnolias in full bloom. That's all the dream was; me, lying under the stars and staring up as they so slowly inched their way across the sky. At least, that's all I can remember about the dream. There was probably more to it.  
  
I heard once that people dream nonstop every night. We only remember maybe one dream in the morning, though. Sometimes, we don't remember any of them. That's sad, don't you think? I wonder how beautiful those dreams are. What am I missing out on by not remembering them? It could have been the most wonderful dream in the world, but I wouldn't recall it. That's sad. People are missing so much, everyday. There's always a little something of yourself that gets lost. Every single day...  
  
My door opens and a nurse walks in. She's plump and juicy and very friendly looking, with a bright smile that doesn't seem to want to fade. I'm not in the mood for that smile right now, lady. I've just gotten myself all depressed. "Are you in any more pain?" she asks me, still smiling, of course. I nod. My ankle has a constant dull pain in it that never goes away, no matter how much they drug me up. She takes out her little needle and injects it into my IV tube, saying, "I thought you still would be." She scribbles some notes down on my chart and leaves the room. That's pretty much my day. I see someone for a moment, they leave, and I'm alone. Never any visitors. Then again, I've only been awake for two or three days. I can't even remember how long I've been awake. I was in and out of sleep so many times when I first woke up that those days are a large, fuzzy blur to me. I shouldn't be as lonely as I am. I have a tv to keep me company. Yeah, a tv that gets three channels; one of them news, another one weather, and another some stupid music channel that plays songs I don't like.  
  
My door is opening again, and I turn my head slightly to see who it is. I immediately recognize the red hair and I wish I could smile to her. I grab my notepad and pen off the table and write, "How are you doing, Dr. Usatashi?" She smiles and says she's doing fine as she lays down a book and a pile of loose, square pieces of paper on my table. "I brought you something that may help to pass the time," she says, smiling so kindly like she always does. She grabs the book and holds it up to my face. "Origami," she states and I stare at her blankly. Folding paper into useless shapes is going to help me pass the time? I doubt it. She pushes the control button and my bed sits up more, until I'm nearly at a right angle with my legs. It's kind of uncomfortable. She grabs a piece of paper and begins folding it into some odd shape as I flip through the pages of the book. Well, it's colorfully illustrated, I'll give it that much. Lots of pretty pictures to look at. Yay. In a few seconds, Doctor Usatashi produces a little white origami magnolia. What is it about this woman? Why the hell does she keep reading my mind? It could be very irritating if I let it. I grab my notepad and pen again and write, "How's Heero?" She smiles at me warmly and I'm hoping that it's a good sign. "He's actually doing better. His heart rate is steady and there's more brain activity. He hasn't woken up yet, though. Sorry..." I slump down into the matress and stare at the origami magnolia. It's pretty. Maybe I'll try one. It'll be hard with only one hand, though. Oh well. After the doctor leaves, I'll simply pick the lock. The spring on my pen, I've figured out, will work perfectly for that task. I scratch down another message for her. "When will I be able to get this cast off? When can I walk around?"  
  
She rolls her eyes at herself. "Thank you for reminding me. I feel like a heel. You'll be getting that thing off tomorrow, and then we'll be putting a removable walking cast on it. That's when you can walk around, I suppose." Excellent, wonderful, magnificent news, this is. If I could smile, I would, and a lot, too. Now I can't wait until tomorrow. At least I have something to look forward to in this place.  
  
Doctor Usatashi walks towards the door and tells me she has to go see other patients as she waves goodbye. When she's gone, I unscrew the clicky pen and take out the spring and unwind it. I stick it into the little keyhole in the handcuffs, twist and manipulate it a bit, and viola! I'm free to work on my origami magnolia.  
  
~~~  
  
Two hours after I started folding these stupid papers, and I still can't get it right on the first try. I've made one good magnolia, one very warped one, one fairly recognizable giraffe, and a pile of crumpled and ripped papers on the floor. I wish there was a trash can nearby. My hand is cramping up from all of this folding. I give up on my attempts at a kangaroo and stick my hand back in the cuff and lock myself in. Just in time, too. Doctor Usatashi sticks her head in and asks how the origami is coming along. I nod my head. That's about all I can do. She sees the papers on the floor and walks over to gather them up and throw them away. Then, she slides the trash can over to my bedside, inspects my warped magnolia and semi-recognizable giraffe and laughs.  
  
She tells me she can't stay very long. Just wanted to say hi, she'll see me tomorrow, have a good night, bye. Then she leaves. Short and sweet. I wish she could stay longer. It's late in the afternoon. I wish I could go to sleep now so that it would be tomorrow already, but I doubt I could. I'm too excited. I'll be able to walk again, and maybe the doctor will take me to see Heero. I flip on the tv and tune to the music station. Those boring songs always put me to sleep. That is, of course, unless a really annoying one comes on, then I have to wake myself up to change the channel before I loose my mind from it's annoying sounds. Luckily for me, the song isn't too bad, and I roll as far onto my side as is possible and curl up. I fall almost instantly asleep, which is surprising. 


	3. Hospitalized, Chapter 3

I think I'm waking up now, but how can I be? It's still dark, everywhere I look. I must be asleep. I fumble for the watch on my wrist, then remember I don't have one anymore. Not only did they take my necklace in that damned mental institute, they took my watch. No jewelry allowed. Yeah, sure. Well, at least I did get my necklace back from them, and it's safe, right here on my neck. I grab the chain and run the golden links through my fingers. They're warm from being stuck to my body. That beautiful cross. Oh, how I missed it while it was gone. Now that I have it back, I'm never letting it go.  
  
I sigh loudly into the dark stillness of my room and inhale deeply in return. It smells so sterile in here. Like they doused it with alcohol before I got here. I reach up to my forehead and scratch at the confining bandages as a thought occurs in my head. If my skull was crushed, they'd have to operate up there to stick that plait in my head. Did they shave my head? What if they did? I can't live without my braid! I sit up a bit and search behind me for the lengthy locks cascading down my back. It's there, silky and fine as ever, though it feels a little dirty. I feel like I haven't taken a bath in years. I wonder if I'll ever get a chance. Maybe after I get this cast off... I certainly hope so. I bet I don't smell too pleasant right now.  
  
Now that these few worries are dealt with and tossed to the back of my mind like yesterday's garbage, I can try to go back to sleep. I can see a dull light coming through the half-lidded blinds of the window, which means it must be near morning. I'm definitely not tired anymore. I'm far too excited. Just to see Heero again, that's all I wish for right now. Even if he's knocked out and near vegetable state, I want to see him. I hope I see him. He's become like this braid that I have wrapped around my fist. I'd die if I didn't have it. It is my past, it reminds me of my present, and it continues with me into the future. What would I be without it? What would I be without Heero?  
  
I may be a lot better off. Think about it, Duo. The guy killed someone. In fact, he's killed a few people before. What if he kills you? No, don't think like that. He would never. What if he did? He wouldn't, so shut up! I curl into a tight little ball on my side and wrap my free arm around my left leg. The cast down there itches. I'll bet my leg has atrophied by now. Stupid leg. Stupid broken bones. Sutpid hair fractures, or whatever that doctor called them. They can all burn in hell. Except the doctor, of course. It would be mean of me to send her to hell. She's too nice. They'd probably beat her up and take her lunch money down there, and I wouldn't want that.  
  
Then again, bad things always happen to good people, so why should she be any different? Because I said so, that's why. I am Shinigami. I hold the powers of death within my grasp. If I want to see you in hell, I will. If I want you to live longer than me, then you shall. I say who lives and who dies!  
  
If I have all these powers, then I say Heero lives. Heero will live. Heero will wake up when I go visit him. If I don't see him tomorrow.. ano... toady, then he'll wake up today, anyway. But when I do see him, he'll be awake. Sure, he will. He will.  
  
I've just realized I'm carrying on a conversation with myself again. I do that far too often when I'm bored. Some people used to tell me I had split personalities because I always talked to myself. Screw them! They don't know shit. Split personalities is when you don't know that you're two different people, right? Right. It's not weird to talk to yourself. Not weird at all. I'm not scizophrenic.  
  
I can remember what one of my friends said so long ago. She said, "It's not weird if you talk to yourself. It's not weird if you talk to yourself and then answer yourself. But, it is weird when you talk to yourself, answer yourself, and then say 'huh?' " I always thought that was very witty. Lucky me, I've never asked myself "huh?" during my one person conversations, so I think I'm safe.  
  
The light's getting a little brighter now and I think I can hear a bird chirping outside. I wonder what floor I'm on in this hospital. I hope it's not too high up. I'm not very fond of heights. I'm not afraid of them, I just know I'm not meant to be one thousand feet high. It's not natural. People just aren't naturally that tall.  
  
There's a knock on my door and a nurse steps in. She's carrying a bucket with some things in it that I can't see from my viewpoint. She smiles at me and slides the table with the bucket on top over to my bedside. "It's time for your bath, dear," she informs me. Great. Another place that has employees who overly enjoy calling you dear. At least it's not "dearie" here. Just dear. Thank you, if there is a god. I grab my notepad and scribble down, "What do you mean?" I'm handcuffed to the bed and all she has with her is a bucket. Does she expect me to sit in that bucket to take a bath, or what?  
  
She smiles at my apparently stupid question and explains that it's a sponge bath. I just sit here in the bed while she bathes me. I don't think so! That may have been just fine and dandy while I was unconscious, but now I'm aware of what's going on, and I'm not particularly keen on having a pretty young nurse staring up my dress and wiping off all my personal body areas with a cold washcloth. Couldn't they get Heero down here to do it? No, he's a vegie right now. I shake my head at the nurse in protest. She reminds me of Doctor Usatashi too much. Red hair and everything. But she wears too much eyeshadow, this nurse. The doc has that natural, 'I just rolled out of bed' look about her. Like Heero, almost. Everything about Heero says, 'just woke up.' Right down to that blank, half asleep look in his eyes. That is, when he's not glaring holes in your head.  
  
The nurse has gone to the bathroom and is filling the bucket up with water. I hope she makes it nice and warm. I don't want cold water tossed onto me first thing in the morning. That'd be bad. As she returns, I begin to scribble down on the notepad that I don't want her bathing me. She literally laughs in my face at the statement and asks me not to argue with her. Just let her do her job. There's no need to be modest. She's seen hundreds of females' bodies before. What the hell!? I wish I could scream at her right now. She reaches for my gown and begins to take it off, but I slap her hand away and hold up a finger for her to wait a minute. I then write down, very angrily, that I'm a BOY! She takes a quick look at it, shrugs, and says, "Sorry," then continues to go for my gown. I groan into the tube in my throat, again making that hideous gurgle- bubbly noise, and swallow my pride.  
  
It's not all that bad if you shut your eyes real tight and pretend like you're not there. Just find a happy place, I suppose. I try not to pay attention as the warm cloth scrubs over my chest and neck. My stomach, my unmentionable, sensitive areas. I don't like her scrubbing around down there. That's my job. It's my body. She rolls me onto my side to get my back and my butt. Yuck! She shoves the little cloth down my butt-crack and scrubs all around. I hope it's not too dirty down there. I mean, I only have a bedpan to use, ya know... I'll tell you what, the entire being hospitalized experience makes you extremely humble. It reminds you that no matter who you are, you can still be reduced to having nothing but a pot to piss in. Literally. You get people ignoring the fact that you're a human and treating you like a baby doll that has to be fed and bathed and have their hair combed. Okay, maybe they don't comb your hair, but it's still a humbling experience. Just gotta swallow any ounce of dignity you may have had left and take it like a man. Or a woman, if they think you're female.  
  
That shit-eating nurse. I don't know her, but I hate her almost as much as that other stupid male doctor that was in here before. Why do people mistake me for a girl? Did I sprout huge breasts while I was asleep? Do they appear on my chest when I'm not looking, or what? Maybe she saw the braid and assumed. Even so, it still pissed me off.  
  
She's finally done with her cleaning chore now and off she goes to the bathroom to dump out the dirty water. At least I feel cleaner now. No more funk on this body! She trots back into my room, twicks my nose, and smiles, saying, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Ha ha. Screw you, bitch. Get the hell out of my room and let me wallow in my pathetic, emberrassed pile of misery now. Just go away. I wish I could tell her that. Of course, all I can do is glare at the back of her head as she leaves my room with the bucket. Stupid woman. I can't sleep now that I'm so pissed off, so I'll try and pass the time some other way.  
  
I grab up my origami book and try to find something interesting to make. There's something I've never seen before. A picture of an origami honey flower stares out at me from the pages of the book. I read the caption next to it. "Honey flowers, in the language of flowers, symbolize Love sweet and secret." Sweet and secret, huh? Suits me just fine. It's not the prettiest flower I've ever seen, but it's okay to look at. I think I'll make it. I pick the lock on the handcuffs again and slide my hand out to get to work on my honey flower.  
  
~~  
  
Must be at least noon by now. It seems like I've been working on these things forever. Doctor Usatashi hasn't come in yet. When is she going to get here? I want to show her my perfect honey flower. Okay, so maybe it isn't perfect, but at least it's recognizable. To me, anyway.  
  
Of course, that's not the only reason I want her to hurry her skinny butt in here. I want to get this cast off! There's a knock on my door and I quickly drop everything I'm doing and stick my hand back into the handcuff. It's not locked when Doctor Usatashi pokes her head in, so I throw my blanket over it. She walks in and smiles at me, as always. "I see you've been working pretty hard on these?" she says, giving me another big smile. "Very nice. Though, it must be kinda hard to do these things with only one free hand." She winks at me and I pale. I hope she doesn't know I've been picking the lock to these things. There's no way she could know. I scrbble down on my notepad, careful not to reveal my uncuffed wrist, that it isn't too difficult. She smiles again and rests her hands on the rails of my bed. "Well, Mr. Maxwell, are you ready to walk again?"  
  
~~  
  
We're on our way downstairs in the elevator to get my cast off. This is so grand. I'm riding in a comfy little wheelchair. First time I've actually sat upright in a chair of some sort. It's all very exciting. I didn't get caught with my hand uncuffed, of course. I never get caught. She had to leave to fetch the wheelchair and I clicked myself in while she was gone. All safe and sound and confined. Just like they like it here.  
  
I never thought I'd be so happy to be moving around somewhere again. I've always taken it for granted, I suppose. You know, motion in general, but now that it seems as if I've been immobile for so long, I'm grateful even to be wheeled around somewhere. It also gives me a chance to memorize the floors of the hospital and check out the security of the place.  
  
Duo Maxwell, you're an evil little genius. Yep, I'm breaking out of here, just like the mental institute. No way I'm going to let them incinerate my Heero. I doubt that's the right word. What was it? Incapacitate? Insinuate? No, none of those. Ah, what the hell?! I know what I'm talking about. They're not going to stick him in jail. I'll get him out the same way I did last time. Of course, we'll try not to commit murder, like we did before.  
  
The elevator makes a faint ding sound and the doors open. Doctor Usatashi pushes my chair out and goes down the hallway to the right, a nurse following behind us. She's pushing a little wheelie cart with a respirator machine on it. I tighten my grip on the origami honey flower in my lap as we continue down the hallway. We pass through a few doors, turn a few corners, and enter a long, thin corridor. It looks just like a doctor's office hallway. There are cheaply painted, poor excuses for art hanging all over the walls. Pictures of fruits and flowers stare out at me. They start to make me sick, so I turn my attention to the floor. Blue carpet. Royal blue. It's pretty. A tall, thin man walks past us on our way down the hallway, and he stares at me strangely. What? Haven't you ever seen a boy with a tube down his throat and bandages all over his body? Maybe not. It's possible that I'm a one in a million patient right now. I bet I do look a little strange. I don't feel all that normal, to tell the truth. Not being able to talk for so long is beginning to get to me.  
  
We finally slow down in front of a door. The doc turns me around backwards, opens the door, and wheels me in. She finally turns me back around, and I get a good look at the place. The entire room's decor is a pale off-white. There's a large counter to the left and a little wheelie stool chair and a large examining-type table. She pushes me over to the table and instructs me to "hop right on," which I do. I don't exactly "hop," per say. I kinda lift myself with my arms, trying to step with my injured leg as gingerly as possible. My arms wobble a moment, I plop back into the chair looking pathetic a moment, and then I growl. I must have lost some of my strength. I can barely lift myself out of a fucking wheelchair. I grit my teeth and stand up with my good leg, putting a little weight on my broken one, and then jump up onto the table.  
  
I sit there looking proud of myself for a moment before I notice that the doc and the nurse are just kinda loofing around, waiting. I shrug and lean back, relaxed. I still have my little notepad and my pen. I take the pen out from behind my ear, flip open the notepad, and scribble down, "how long's this gonna take?" and show it to the doctor.  
  
Dr. Usatashi peers at it a moment, then shrugs, "Not long."  
  
"Can I take the tube out for a while, PLEASE?" I write to her.  
  
She heaves a sigh and puts on the stethoscope that is always dangling around her neck. Then she puts the little thing on my chest, listening. Her brow furrows a moment, she switches sides, concentrates some more, then removes it. I stare at her. "I guess so. But only for a little while. We tried taking it out once while you were still unconscious, but your lung collapsed on us. It may take a while to get it totally healed back up."  
  
I nod crazily, ecstatic that this foreign object shall be extracted from my person. Woo hoo! The doc starts peeling the tape off from around my mouth, then she grips on the tube a bit, right next to my mouth. Her finger is touching my lip. "When I tell you to, blow out as hard as you can, okay?"  
  
I nod.  
  
"Okay, blow." I do just that, causing my ears to kinda pop, and she pulls on the tube and it feels like she's ripping my lungs out. I gag a bit as it comes up, but try to act composed, and out it comes, trailing a bit of gooey saliva after it. Oh, that's really sexy, Duo. A nice trail of drooly stuff following the tube that a young, beautiful doctor just yanked outta your throat. Damn, I'm cool.  
  
I kinda smile a weird smirk and wipe at the drool. She smiles back. I clear my throat a bit, making my chest hurt, and say, "Feels good to have..." and I stop right there. I'm croaking again. I doubt she could understand me. She grabs a little dixie cup from a dispenser and fills it with water from the sink and hands it to me. I swallow it quickly, eager to finally get to talk again, and clear my throat once more. It doesn't hurt as much, and I attempt to speak again. "It feels good to have that thing out." Much better.  
  
She grins at me, just as the door behind her opens. She turns around as a short, balding man enters the room, his face pressed into a clipboard. He looks up at me peculiarly, his eyes covered with about five inches of lens in his glasses. It makes his eyes look really, really big. I can practically see his retinas through his pupils. "Mr. Maxwell?" He gruffs out at me, more of a statement than a question. I nod. He smiles. "Time to take that cast off?" More of a statement, yet again. I nod. He stops smiling and begins to gather up the things he'll need. This man kinda freaks me out. He's going to be doing something to me when he sees like that!? I don't know what it takes to get a cast off, but I've got a good idea of what it could be... something sharp... that cuts. Damn. If that blind bastard slips and amputates my leg I'll sue 'im.  
  
~~~~  
  
Yay! Chapter 3, finally finished! 


	4. Hospitalized, Chapter 4

I close my eyes tight, trying hard not to look as the blind old fart takes out something that strikingly resembles a rotary saw and begins to chop at my leg with it. The whirring sound itself is getting to me as I squint my eyes closed and turn my head to the side out of fear. I must be shaking like a leaf. 

Doctor Usatashi isn't much help, either. She's by my side now, sure, but I'm still freaking out. She strokes my hair tenderly, lovingly, like a mother would, and suddenly I'm not afraid anymore. I look up into her eyes, which shine with a heavenly glow. I never noticed the color of them before. They're like a deep crystal blue. In fact, the color is indescribable. And lovely, long lashes frame them. I guess I never noticed until today just how beautiful she is... 

My thoughts are, as expected, cut short by the blind fart telling me that my cast is now removed. I did just barely notice that my foot felt quite a bit lighter. I peer down at it and see nothing but a pale stick of an ankle with dry skin hanging from it. It looks absolutely horrid. I guess that's to be expected, though. He takes a damp cloth that doesn't exactly look sanitary and starts scrubbing at it, peeling all of the dry skin away. 

What's left of my foot isn't much better after the skin is gone. It's still pale and skinny and it looks like it would snap again if I tried to use it. I compare it to the other foot, setting them side-by-side. Yep, I was right. It's definitely thinner. About two inches thinner... I feel sick. I squeeze tightly on the honey flower that still rests in my hand. 

The blind guy inches closer to me, holding up some sort of contraption that looks like a makeshift cast with buckles. Scary. 

He slides even closer to me, and I can smell his breath. It stinks, plain and simple. "You're going to have to wear this when you walk," he wheezes. The light is reflecting off of his bald head and his four-inch thick glasses. I just love a man in coke-bottle eyewear. 

"Sure thing," I hiss with barely controlled frustration and anger towards the cast and my damn ankle. H shows me how to strap it on, sliding my foot into the contraption, and the snapping all of the buckles shut. It's probably hell to get it off. He then reaches out a hand and grasps the back of my arm, trying to help me to stand. I can feel how dry his skin is. It's nasty. This guy is way too old for this. He needs to have retired fifty years ago. 

I finally slide off of the table and onto the ground, where I wobble precariously for a few moments before I finally get my footing. It's not easy, by a long shot, especially considering I haven't stood in what seems like forever. Doctor Usatashi is grinning at me, practically beaming. She must be so proud. The bald doctor takes two crutches from the corner of the room and shows me how to use them, carefully hopping across the room with them shoved in his, more than likely, smelly armpits, and lifting one foot up. He looks like some sort of flamingo. He hands them to me. I hand my honey flower to Dr. Usatashi. I can barely contain my excitement, now. I can walk, but I have to wear a bear-trap of a cast on my ankle and shove huge sticks in my armpits. Yippee. I hobble there a moment more before steadying myself again, leaning on the crutches. I try to get the hang of it right off… maybe show the Dr. Usatashi that I'm one smart guy. Unfortunately, it's much more difficult than it looks, and I do a hop-skip-jump sort of move. I probably look like I'm trying to do a riverdance. I land flat-footed on my bad ankle, and a knife of pain shoots through my body. I clench my teeth, bugging out my eyes. 

This damn foot isn't going to get the better of me… I try again, this time taking it a bit more slowly, and really paying attention to where my feet are. Lift up the bad foot, crutches forward, kinda lean into them, lift up good foot, weight on crutches, land on good foot. Ah! I got it! I try another step. It works perfectly, and now I'm the one that's beaming. 

"Of course, you'll only need the crutches for a few days. After that, you can probably walk on the broken one, wearing the walking cast." Heh… No wonder they call it a walking cast. 

"Thanks doc," I throw back at the blind fart while I'm still hippety-hopping around the room. Then, I suddenly remember the real reason that I was so excited about today. "Doctor Usatashi! Can I go see Heero now?" 

The doc kinda questions me for a moment, seems to roll the idea around in her head. My heart's beating a mile a minute, waiting for the response. I feel like wringing my hands or ripping my precious hair out. 

"I suppose it's okay. Do you want to walk down there?" 

I nod, and then grab the door handle and pull, slowly easing my way out, but still going as quickly as possible. I hop my way around as fast as I can down the hallway, yelling for them to hurry up. These crutches can actually make you go pretty fast, once you get a rhythm going. Long strides, I guess. 

Doctor Usatashi steps out the door and nearly jogs to catch up with me. "Duo! You're going the wrong way!"   
  


It seems like forever to get to Heero's room. We have to jump through a lot of hoops. First, we check in at a nurses' station, and Doctor Usatashi signs her name, as well as I, on a clipboard. I'm given a visitor's card that clipped to my shirtfront to let everyone know that I wasn't an escaped patient, or something. We then have to be buzzed in, and the automatic doors open, sliding out of our way on noiseless hinges. It whizzes as it closes behind us. Then, there's a guard a little way down the hallway. He checks my visitor ID and Dr. Usatashi's ID card, and then opens the door in what looks like a chain-link metal fence that covers the hallway from floor to ceiling. We take a left at the next hallway, and it's darker than the others, almost eerily so. A few of the lights are out, it seems, and they make a dull buzzing sound and try futilely to flicker to life. Dr. Usatashi's heels click on the floor as she walks, and my bare foot makes a padded noise on the tiles. Other than that, it's silent as we make our way to his room. She comes to an abrupt stop next to a large window, motioning to it with her hand. I peer inside. It's nearly pitch black in there, so I press my face to the glass and wrap my hands around my eyes. I finally see inside. Heero's lying on the bed, a mask over his face and his hand cuffed to the bedrail and IV tubes and all kinds of other wires are sticking out from his body. I nearly gasp. He looks so helpless, lying there all alone in the dark. 

I get into my serious state and give Dr. Usatashi a begging look. "May I go inside and see him, please?" I know I sounded pathetic, but right now, that's how I feel. I think I may cry, and, truthfully, I don't want to do that again in front of the Doctor. I can feel my eyes starting to water and the knot forming in my throat. 

She looks down at me like she's just found a lost puppy. "Of course," she says, nodding and looking away at the same time. She probably feels sorry for me, and I think that maybe she understands just how important Heero is to me. She slides a card through a device of the door handle, and the red light turns to green. She opens the door noiselessly and steps inside, holding it open for me. I hop inside on my crutches slowly, then take a few more steps inside, and stop. I can't move. I can't get closer to him. I can't stand seeing him like this. 

"I'll give you a moment alone with him, Duo," the doctor says softly, nearly a whisper. She sounds as if she's about to cry, too. I nod silently, not even bothering to turn, and finally release the breath I hadn't realized I was holding when I hear the door click shut. 

For a moment, I just stand there, staring at him. His face is so slack, and he looks very pale and thin, lying in the center of the bed, both arms on top of the cover, palms up, a tube leading from the elbow joint of his left and a pair of handcuffs on his right. All I can hear is my own heartbeat in my ears, even though the machine next to his bed is beeping and the respirator continues to make airy, wheezing sounds. 

Then, it finally happens. I realize just where I am and what the Hell is going on, and I let the crutches fall plainly from my arms and rush to his bedside. I barely even hear the crutches click on the floor before I'm nearly on his bed, wrapping my arms around him and lifting his head to my chest. I start to cry for real, now. I can't help but let out a low, pathetic and tired-sounding sob. "Heero…" I try to say, but it only comes out as a whisper as another sob wracks my body. My tears flow quickly out of my eyes, and one of them lands on Heero's cheek and rolls down to fall on the bed cover. I look down at him, loosening my grip and letting him slowly slide back down to the pillow. The tear that fell onto his face… it almost looks as if he were crying, as well. I stand up straight, then drag the nearby chair over and sit down in it, grasping his hand tightly in my own. 

"Heero… can you hear me?" I whisper. He doesn't answer, of course. I brush at a few of the bangs that obscure his face from my view, letting my fingers trail through the rest of his hair, then lightly touch his cheek. His skin feels cold and clammy. "Heero… If you can hear me… Squeeze my hand, or something." I know, that statement is the oldest one in the book. But I find myself hoping beyond hope that this time, it'll happen. That maybe it doesn't only happen in movies. That he'll show a sign of life in his lifeless body and give me something to believe in. I release the hand and place it back on the bed, palm down, like it was. 

"Heero… I know you probably can't hear me… but I have to say it now. I have to let you know that I…" love you… I can't bring myself to say it aloud. I can't do it. I resign myself silently, clenching my hand near his face, determined to tell him. "I love… I love you, Heero." I sob as I say his name, my brick wall just comes crashing down at my feet, but I don't care. "Heero, answer me, dammit!" I clench my fist even tighter, until one of the knuckles cracks and my nails dig into my skin. I sob once more and lean my head on the blanket, letting the tears soak into the fabric, but not giving a damn. I hate this so much! I hate everything that's happened… Everything that I got everyone into. I hate the fact that I had to be a big shot and try to escape that damned mental institute and endanger everyone and end up crashing the fucking car! If I hadn't been so insistent upon running… We could have pulled over, gotten arrested, and gotten Heero some medical attention. Hell, now he may die! At least by giving up, we may have had a chance. 

I shake my head back and forth and cry some more, my shoulders shaking as I bite back the sobs that want to escape my body so badly. If only I hadn't run… "I'm so sorry, Heero. I did this to you, didn't I? It's my fault…" 

I nearly jump out of my fucking skin when I feel something land heavily on my head. Instead of doing that, I jerk back into the seat, gasping so loud I nearly bust my own eardrums. My heart begins a grueling pace and it feels as if it's ready to explode. I stare dumbly at Heero's hand that now rests plainly on the bed, palm down. 

My fucking God… I finally use my brain for once and force my eyes to look at his face. His eyes are open, and he's staring directly at me. Albeit, he looks a bit confused, but he's looking at me, and his eyes are open. I gape at him, my mouth working, but no sounds coming out. I merely make a pathetic squeaking sound at him, and his eyebrows knit themselves close together in a sign of confusion. He looks down at himself, then studies his hand, and brings it up to his face, grabbing the small plastic mask that sits over his mouth and nose and pulling it away and up, letting it fall onto the pillow above his head. 

I continue to gape. 

He turns back at me, still looking a bit confused, then opens his mouth as if to say something. I beat him to it, finally getting my voice to work at something other than squeaking. "Heero?? Heero!! Doctor Usatashi!!!" I stand from my seat and run to the door, turn the handle, and pull. It slips out of my hand, I pull so hard, and I fall onto my ass on the floor. I immediately stand back up, realizing the door is probably locked, and go to the glass, giving it the beating of a lifetime and yelling so hard my lungs feel like they're ready to come up my throat. "Doctor Usatashi!!" I screech at the glass as I beat on it. 

She's in the room in a split second, her eyes wide and darting about. "Duo! What happened?" She rushes to my side and grabs my shoulders, pulling me away from the glass. 

"He woke up! He's awake!" I point at Heero, lying on the bed with the mask off and looking at us both oddly. 

Dr. Usatashi does the gaping now, but only for a split second. She quickly goes into Doctor mode and goes to his bedside, grabbing the stethoscope that is always around her neck and putting it to his chest. "How do you feel, Mr. Yuy?" she asks him bluntly. I'm next to his bed in a flash, grabbing onto his cuffed hand and squeezing it tightly. I can't help but smile like a madman at him. I know I probably look it. I'm still crying, tears running down my face, and I'm smiling like I've lost my mind. I think I have. At least now I'm crying out of joy, and not despair. It's a good feeling. 

"Duo, I think I need to take you back to your room. We'll get some nurses in here to deal with Heero." I look at her forlornly. I don't want to leave him yet, but, I guess I really don't have a choice, do I? So, I resign myself and nod with a sigh. 

"Who are you people?" Heero finally says, staring at us both like we're some sort of odd alien creatures. "Where am I?" 

"Heero… It's Duo. Don't you remember me?" He shakes his head and now I'm not crying anymore. All I can bring myself to do is stare at him in disbelief. "I…" 

Doctor Usatashi interrupts me, saying, "It's okay, Duo. It's to be expected that he'll have some temporary memory loss. You did, too, remember?" 

I nod. "Now, let's get you back to your room," she tells me kindly, but I can tell that she's serious about it now. It's more of an order this time. I nod again and walk to the middle of the room, picking up my crutches. She follows me, opening the door with the same card she used before. I don't even bother to look back at Heero as I leave the room. I'm almost mad at him for not remembering me. Was I really that unimportant to him? 

Before I leave, the room, I suddenly remember the honey flower. I reach out to Dr. Usatashi and she looks at my hand strangely, then realizes what I'm waiting on, and hands me the origami flower. I limp over to Heero's bed, with the flower held tightly in my hand, trying not to crush it against the crutch that is also in my hand. He stares at me oddly. I don't even bother to look at him with my blood-shot eyes that have been crying; I simply place the honey flower on his bedside table, turn around, and walk out of the room. He starts to say something as I leave, but it's nothing more than a small whisper to himself, and I can't hear it. I almost wish I could.   



End file.
